Archon is coming up. Next week, in fact. Once again, I will have work in there art show. Last year I won the best in show nonprofessional. I’m not changing my status, because I am not doing this as a professional, but that doesn’t mean I’m not for hire.
Anyway, along with some very cool panels with some amazing people, here’s a peak at what I’ll have on display. Â Just one.
…
No plan here, just thoughts. It’s Sunday as I begin writing this, second day for me of a four-day weekend. Timing.
Lack of attention bedevils me. I have things to do, a wide variety, and I get befuddled by which I should pay most attention. It matters because I end up scattering my attention widely and so get little done in each endeavor. Some of my friends understand this, but not all.
This morning I got out of bed (I hesitate to say “awoke” because I wouldn’t classify my condition that way) and stumbled through my morning routines. Making coffee is so embedded in my brain that I think if I sleep-walked that is one of the things I would do.…
It’s been obvious to me for some time that I have a time management problem. I need to be working on fiction. (Right now, like while I’m doing this.) The urge to write is something every writer understands. The trouble is, the urge is sort of undifferentiated. It doesn’t care what you write, just that you do.
And it is so easy to do these things rather than chip away at the short story that currently defies completion.
Not to mention all the other pesky things that gum up the well-intentioned schedule you’ve made for a given day.
I should listen to no news.…
I promised to do something about our L.A. trip in September.
Over the last decade or so I realized that, unexpectedly, Harlan Ellison had become a friend. One of those with whom, despite only occasional contact, you connect with on some level which eludes description. I’ve puzzled over this from time to time, but was told by people I trust finally to just go with it.
Harlan trusted me enough to come to St. Louis for a local convention and put in an appearance despite considerable obstacles. He had suffered a stroke which left him physically diminished, he had undergone a number of blows healthwise, and, frankly, he had run himself at the edge of endurance for all his life.…
I suppose I should do this. What a year. What a miserable year.
Not entirely. But it’s amazing how a couple of truly unpleasant events can color an entire period, mixed bag though it is. There were good things, there were pleasant things, there was ample to lift the spirits.
It’s just that they had to be lifted so far.
As year-in-review posts go, I should probably keep this one short.
At some point back in the spring I finished my last novel. (Or was that the year before? I’d have to check, I don’t remember. No, that was April of 2017, so among other things my sense of time is fraying.)…
Some controversy has erupted around the Hugo Awards. Again.
I have two memories that relate. Â One was an early memory of one of the Oscar presentations wherein someone—an actor—took the opportunity to make statements of a controversial nature. Â I was young, I didn’t entirely understand why all the adults around became so…resentful.
Yes, that’s the word. Â They resented the intrusion of controversial matter into what they seemed to feel was something meant for them. Â It was on their television, it was supposed to be there to entertain them, it was not supposed to make them think about things outside the movie that was being honored.…
Some people just get in.
In this instance, though, the process was years at work.
Harlan Ellison died on June 28th, 2018, and I have been off-balance, riled, and melancholy ever since I saw the first notice, at work, doing something else on-line. It had been coming for a while. He was not well. He was never going to “recover” from the last few years. A stroke had wreaked havoc with him, although it had left him with access to all his faculties. This was expected. Nevertheless, it came as a shock, if not a total surprise, and the aftershocks have been working through me ever since.…
Primary season has begun. Eight states have already held them and the numbers are beginning to come in.
November is going to be significant, no matter what the outcome, because it may tell us something about who we think we are. Midterms are notorious for low voter turn-out. That has to change. After a year and a half of incompetence (actually much more than that, but I’m addressing the current manifestation of mediocrity) we cannot afford to be our usual “oh, who cares about midterms, it’s not like they’re important” attitude that usually seems to dominate at them.
A few things to keep in mind.…
I’ve been mentioning this in various places for a few days now. Time to explain what is going on. Here’s the announcement, official and everything, about Left Bank Books‘ new science fiction/fantasy author series. Â This has been in the works for some time and the kick-off event is April 18th.
I’ve been working for Left Bank Books for about six years, give or take, and during that time I’ve been able to influence our science fiction and fantasy section. Modest improvements, some worthy titles that might otherwise have gone unnoticed, and for the last three years I’ve been hosting the monthly reading group, Great Novels of the 22nd Century.…
Of all the things I thought I would be writing about today, this is not one of them. Â Of course I knew she was unwell. Â Of course I knew how old she was. Â Of course I know all journeys end.
Still, the impact of such endings can dislodge and shock. Because it is difficult to envisage the world continuing with such an absence.
Unlike others, I have read relatively little of Ursula K. Le Guin’s work. The Dispossessed, The Lathe of Heaven, Wizard of Earthsea, The Word For World Is Forest, The Left Hand Of Darkness…a handful of others, short stories.…